Page 58 of Hell Bent (Portland Devils #5)

STEP UP

Sebastian

I was naked, pulling on my underwear, when I heard the phone ring. I grabbed it, because it had to be Alix. Not texting. Calling.

Oh. Not Alix. The screen said Debra Matson. The RN in charge of Solange’s hospice care, whom I’d spoken to precisely twice.

The noise of dozens of laughing, talking men seemed to recede around me, and I put a hand over my free ear and shouted, “Hello?”

“Is this Sebastian Robillard?” the voice asked.

“Yeah, it’s me. Debra, right?” I moved into the showers, because that was the quietest spot in here. “What’s going on?”

“Can you speak freely?” she asked. “It sounds like a party.”

I had a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Not like I hadn’t expected this, but now that it was here, it felt bad.

“I can talk,” I said. “What? Is she gone?” Thinking, You shouldn’t have brought Ben out here.

You should’ve had him stay home, got over yourself, and asked Alix to take him up there.

You knew this was coming. Selfish. Selfish.

Debra said, “No, but we’re very close. She’s still conscious, but she’s on her way out. She’s asking for Ben.” She paused. “And for you.”

Not too late. The breath left my lungs in a rush, and I got a little lightheaded. Wait, though. She was asking for me? I said, “We’ll come. I have an extra day off tomorrow, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Tomorrow may be too late,” she said.

“We’re in Pittsburgh,” I said, feeling helpless.

“Oh.” She stopped talking, no doubt thinking, What kind of heartless bastard takes his nephew all the way across the country at a time like this?

I said, “I play for the NFL. We just finished a game. I don’t get to choose about that.” Not sure why I was explaining myself. Maybe just that I couldn’t stand feeling like that heartless bastard.

“Oh,” she said. “That explains it. I couldn’t figure out why she had the TV on, especially showing American football. That’s not what I normally see.”

Solange had watched the game? While she was dying? I said, “We’ll get there as fast as we can. Will you be there when we do?”

She said, “I’ll come if I’m needed.”

“Oh,” I realized. “When she dies.” The word sat there, cold and hard, but it was the truth.

“Yes,” she said. “An aide will be with her. If Solange is still with us once you get here and you feel you need me, you can call.”

What did I do now?

When you don’t know what to do, you do the next thing.

I was in my underwear, so the next thing was to get dressed.

I headed back to my locker the same way I’d walked out of Solange’s bedroom, that first day in Vancouver.

Step, step, step, with the blood draining from my head and spiders crawling in my chest. Set the phone on the bench and realized my hand was trembling.

Tried to breathe, to get my jeans on, and ended up sinking down onto the bench myself.

Just for a minute. Just to get my breath back.

Owen said, “Hey. You OK?”

I looked up. “Huh?”

“Hey, man.” He was sitting beside me. “What’s going on? You hit your head out there?” Concern in his bearded face.

I shook my head, put my hands on my knees, tried to focus. “My sister’s on her way out. Dying. And Alix and Ben are here. Out there. Somewhere.”

“And you need to get where?” Owen asked.

“Uh … Vancouver.” I put up a hand and shoved my wet hair back, then stood up and grabbed those jeans, began to pull them on.

“Right. I’ll be flying back to Portland with the team within the hour, so that’s fast, and Alix and Ben will …

I’ll figure out how to get them back faster, too.

” Jeans on, belt fastened. Good. Get on my phone, figure out how to work this.

Owen said, “Hang on,” and I didn’t pay attention. T-shirt over the head, then pull on the flannel shirt. Fasten the buttons, tuck the shirt in. Once I was dressed, I’d call Alix, figure it out with her. She didn’t lose her head. That was a good thought. I’d focus on that.

Harlan in front of me now, Owen beside him, Harlan saying, “Hey. Owen told me.”

“Yeah.” What, was this going to be some group therapy deal? I didn’t need that. I needed to figure this thing out.

Harlan said, “So you and Alix and Ben are all here, but you need to be in Vancouver ASAP. That’s easy. Private jet.”

“What?” I looked up from pulling on my socks.

“Private jet,” Harlan said again .

“How?” I asked. “And won’t that take even longer, on a smaller plane?”

“Nope,” Harlan said. “The bigger jets can fly faster than commercial. Higher altitudes, that’s why. No airport time, either.”

Owen said, “Passports.”

“Oh.” Harlan considered. “Huh.”

“Right,” I said. “Passports. They’re at home. Portland.” Wait. Alix had put hers in her purse last weekend, hadn’t she? Was it at my place, or the trailer?

Harlan said, “So you need a jet to take you all back to Portland, then …” He snapped his fingers. “Got somebody who can bring your passports to the airport?”

This was moving too fast, and my brain was moving too slow. “Dogsitter, yeah,” I said, then remembered Alix’s passport and where it might be. “How do I do all that? Arrange it?”

Harlan said, “Leave it to me. Right now, call Alix.”

Alix

Ben and I were lined up for the chartered bus that would take us back to the hotel when my phone rang. I pulled it out and told Ben, “It’s Sebastian.”

“Cool,” he said. “Put it on speaker, OK?”

I smiled and hit the buttons, and Ben yelled, “That was awesome!”

Sebastian said, “Ben?”

“And me,” I said. “You’re on speaker.”

“Oh.” A pause, and we were climbing onto the bus, a cacophony of noise around us. “Take me off speaker.”

I looked at Ben, and he looked at me, because there was something wrong with Sebastian’s voice. I sank into the first available seat and said, “OK. You’re off.”

“Solange is dying,” he said. “I mean, soon.”

“Oh.” I glanced at Ben again, and he looked back, worry all over his young face as if he knew. Or as if he’d experienced too many thunderclaps. “It’s happening now?”

A sigh. “Yeah. Look. Get your stuff and get to the airport. I’ll text you where to go once I know.”

“OK,” I said. “Do you want me to look up flights? Or—hey. If you need to go back with the team, I could take Ben straight there. I’ll bet we could get there faster if we flew to New York first, because it’s late in the day to get all the way west from Pittsburgh.

We could meet you in Van—” I stopped. “Oh, wait. Passports. Mine’s at your place. Shoot.”

Ben said, “What’s going on?”

I told Sebastian, “Hang on.” And told Ben, as calmly as I could manage, “Your mom’s condition has changed, and it looks like it’ll be very soon.”

His face went blank. That’s the only way I can describe it. He opened his mouth, and nothing came out. I put the phone to my ear again and told Sebastian, “Talk to Ben. Tell him everything you know. Tell him now.” And handed over the phone.

You’re here, I told myself. And now you know why, because this is where you’re meant to be. And this is where the rubber meets the road.

Time to step up.